


still, i turn to you

by yurishika



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Canon Related, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurishika/pseuds/yurishika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>michael staying for two weeks in toronto is all yuzuru needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	still, i turn to you

**Author's Note:**

> It is highly recommended that you listen to [this](https://soundcloud.com/hazel-nutty-1/rihwa-harukaze) while reading the fic. You’re welcome! ^^

He spots Michael walking out of the airport, looking underdressed for the Toronto weather. But that doesn’t come to mind, because Yuzuru’s face splits to a grin. “Michael!” he calls, his hand waving all too enthusiastically from his side of the waiting area.

Michael brightens up upon seeing him, and he quickly sprints towards his direction despite his seemingly heavy luggage. Yuzuru meets him halfway, arms wrapping around the younger one as soon as he nears. “Hey,” he says, wondering why he sounds so out of breath when it was Michael who did all the running.

“Hey,” Michael says, and his breath is ticklish in his ear. “How have you been?”

Yuzuru’s body is still aching from last night’s practice. Coach Brian had looked disappointed when he had gone over his routine for Worlds, and so he decided to skate until his body is screaming from the pain. He’s nailing his triples, but the failure to hand his quad salchows still haunts him. But Coach Brian wants him to work on the basics rather than the jumps. He wants to trust Coach Brian, but sometimes he just wants to do what he wants. Winning the Olympics, after all, is a double-edged sword—with the bragging rights come heavy pressure to prove the title was worth winning. Equally pressuring is the home court advantage they should have in Saitama.

But he’s not going to say all of that to someone who he just picked up in the airport. Instead, he puts on his best smile. “I’m okay,” he says. “You?”

“I’m okay,” Michael replies as he pulls away, feet shuffling. “Well, shall we go?”

“Hold on.” Yuzuru takes a step back, frowning as he looks at Michael from head to toe. “You’re going to freeze if you’re wearing just a T-shirt and jeans and rubber shoes.”

“Oh.” Michael looks at his shirt self-consciously. “Well, I just came from LA …”

He laughs, taking off his scarf. “For god’s sake …” He takes a step forward and starts wrapping the scarf around Michael’s neck, the younger one looking frozen in place at the sudden gesture. “There,” he says when he’s all done, patting the younger one on the cheek. “Still underdressed, but at least you’ll survive until you get to my place.”

Michael looks like he’s in a daze, hand hovering on the scarf. “Thanks …” he says, trailing off.

“Come on, let’s go.” He grabs the bag, lingering on Michael’s hand just a little bit, before leading the way.

 

 

 

 

Michael’s knee needs to recover before he competes in his hometown in April. His therapists in Los Angeles are already top-notch, but they had recommended this physical therapist in Toronto that can get him into shape before he flies back to Manila. But Michael doesn’t have any relatives in Toronto (which is surprising because Michael has relatives practically everywhere in the world), and his mother’s close friend in Toronto is out of town, so …

“Stay at my place,” he said over one of their Skype conversations before he could stop himself. There was no mistaking the sudden widening of Michael’s eyes as soon as those words slipped. “I-I mean,” he stammered, “I’m in Toronto, and I’m familiar with the clinic because my therapist is in the same building, so it will be easier for you …?”

“Oh.” Michael considered this, chin on hand. “I can ask Mom tomorrow, I guess … is it okay with your mom?”

Yuzuru looked at his wall clock and was surprised to find out that it was already midnight. “I’ll ask her tomorrow, too.”

To his surprise, his mother agreed when he asked her while they were making his lunch. His mother was getting busy with her designing gig, and she would usually be out until late, so she was trying to teach him to cook for himself. “Are you sure?” he asked as he finished slicing the last of the vegetables.

“Of course,” his mother said as she placed the egg on top of the rice in precise efficiency. “You obviously want to spend time with Michael.”

Yuzuru groaned. Was he really that obvious?

“I’m your mother, I should be noticing these things.” She grins at his bemused face and whacks him lightly on the head. “But, really, it’s fine with me. The young man needs to be in shape in time for his competition. This is how we can help.”

Yuzuru sighed in relief. “Thanks, Mom.”

“And besides,” she added, a waggle of her brows, “you’re turning into an adult now, and I trust you to make sound decisions, like using protec—”

“Mom!”

It was their mothers who talked over Skype that night, and Yuzuru pressed his face against the small opening of his mother’s bedroom, nervous as to how this would go. Soon, though, he could hear laughter, and he thought they were calling each other “Yumi” and “Teresa,” and while he thought everything was going great, he wasn’t sure what to make of this development.

The door opened minutes later, which sent Yuzuru plummeting to the ground. When he looked up, his mother was snickering. “Uh …” he said, embarrassed. “How did it go?”

“His flight’s on Saturday night,” she said, helping him up. “You go pick him up,” she added with a smile.

 

 

 

 

As soon as they enter the apartment, Yuzuru’s mother is all dressed up, a large travel bag in hand. “Uh, where are you going?” he asks, confused. He doesn’t recall his mother having any trips for the week.

“I just got a call from a friend in Vancouver, and she wants me to stay and catch up with her,” his mother says, practically bouncing in excitement. Her eyes suddenly hover to the newcomer, and she nods warmly in greeting. “Hello, Michael. Nice to see you again.”

Michael, who’s behind Yuzuru, bows sheepishly. “H-Hello, Mrs. Hanyu,” he greets.

“I would have loved to stay, but my friend and I have a lot to catch up on.” She bows apologetically, though Yuzuru can tell that she’s not sorry about this at all. “I hope Yuzuru will take care of you well, and if he doesn’t, you tell me, okay?”

“Um, okay—”

“See you whenever! And Yuzuru? I stocked up on condoms in the medicine cabinet!”

“MOM!” Yuzuru yells over his mother’s departing back while Michael crouches, doubling over in laughter. When Michael has calmed down, and once the color of his face is back to normal, he asks, but not meeting his eyes, “So, uh, my room?”

Michael gapes at everything when Yuzuru shows him his room, hastily cleaned up hours before. The younger one pokes around, asking all kinds of questions, from his Gundam figurine given by Oda on his birthday, his Pooh bear tissue holder, the _Umechan-sensei_ poster signed by Horikita Maki herself, and how the view from outside his room looks so calming. Yuzuru answers all of them, all the while helping Michael unpack his things, making space in Yuzuru’s own personal space.

“You hungry?” Yuzuru asks once they’re done.

“Sort of.”

“I’ll go heat something up. Go make yourself at home.”

It’s in the kitchen when the weight of the situation starts to sink in. He feels his heartbeat quickening, and he has felt this before, during the hours before his free skate in Sochi. This time, it’s about Michael staying with him. For two weeks. With no parental supervision.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” he mutters to his mother’s pinup of Kimura Takuya on the refrigerator.

Kimura Takuya only smiles at him, as if mocking his life decisions.

 

 

 

 

It’s instant ramen just for this night. Yuzuru’s too lazy to set up the dining table, so they end up eating in the living room, feet up on the couch. Michael gets control of the remote, and they end up on the Filipino channel, watching a teeny-bopper romantic comedy of a maid and a rich kid. Yuzuru watches along like he’s watching the Animal Planet, ignoring Michael’s comments on how pretty the lead actress is.

When they’re done, Michael does the dishes, despite Yuzuru’s protests, so the older one ends up checking the fridge, wondering what to cook for the day. It feels too domestic for him, too strange a situation to be in, but it’s strange, in a good way.

Once that’s done, they both head back to the bedroom, in which Michael frowns at the mattress laid out on the floor. “Are you really going to sleep on the floor?” he asks with a frown.

Yuzuru nods as he makes himself comfortable. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re the guest. It’d be unfair if I let you sleep on the floor.”

“But won’t you be uncomfortable?”

He shakes his head, though he does feel touched at the concern. “Nah, I’ll be okay. I always sleep on the floor in Sendai. No big deal. Besides, it’s weird to sleep in Mom’s room, and I hate sleeping on the couch.”

Michael opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but he closes it again and shifts so that he’s lying down. “Okay,” he says. “If you say so.”

The night is quiet, and Yuzuru is usually quick to fall asleep on nights like these, but he stays up, listening to Michael’s steady breathing. From his side of the room, he can see Michael’s sleeping face—his eyes shut, mouth slightly open. The moon casts a shadow on him that makes his sleeping face look peaceful, innocent.

And Yuzuru can’t find himself to breathe.

 

 

 

 

Mornings are always a busy part of the day, Yuzuru making sure that he accomplishes everything that needs to be done so he can focus on practice in the afternoon. He wakes up at six in the morning, and after clearing his bed and making sure he doesn’t wake up Michael, he tiptoes out of the room. He makes lunch, does his morning exercises, then does the schoolwork that Waseda has assigned him for the week. 

Michael steps out of the room as soon as Yuzuru is done with his outline for his paper, groggily rubbing his eyes. “Morning,” he greets with a yawn. 

“Morning,” Yuzuru greets as he closes his laptop. “Had a good sleep?” 

“Fantastic.” Michael flops down on the couch beside him, obviously not a morning person. Yuzuru keeps this in mind, although, at the moment, he’s much more focused as to how Michael’s head is leaning on his shoulder, though he’s not really complaining. 

“Great.” He lets this moment linger for a couple of more seconds before asking, “So, breakfast? Eggs and bacon okay with you?” 

Michael perks up. “Sure.” 

They end up eating in the living room again, crouched on the coffee table. The latest _Naruto_ episode is on, and it’s Yuzuru who does the translating for Michael this time. Michael still looks perplexed at the end of the episode, much to his amusement. 

Michael’s properly dressed this time, minus the scarf. though his heart takes a leap when he sees the younger one wearing his scarf. Michael looks at him uncertainly. “Is it okay?” he asks, looking apologetic. “I didn’t pack any scarves.” 

Yuzuru sighs. “Yeah.” He steps forward and fixes the scarf on Michael’s neck. “There, much better. Let’s go?” 

“Yeah.” 

The clinic is a block away from the apartment. His own doctor looks pleasantly surprised to see him and asks them both a few questions before Michael’s therapist arrives. Yuzuru spends the hour with Michael, who gets asked a lot of questions by the doctor while he nods and swiftly takes down notes. When he’s done, Michael gets his therapy schedule—afternoons, except on weekends, just like Yuzuru’s practice schedule in the skating club. 

“Here.” Yuzuru hands Michael a plastic container just before he leaves for the skating rink. “I made you lunch.” 

Michael blinks at the container, then at Yuzuru. “Wow,” he says, in awe. “The Olympic medalist Yuzuru Hanyu made me lunch.” His face splits into a grin as he takes the lunch box. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not good at cooking, but I did my best,” Yuzuru says, feeling the tips of his ears turn pink. He can feel the other people in the clinic staring at them. “Anyway, I gotta go. If I’m not here by 6:30, wait for me in the skating club, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

The nurses are staring at him when he’s about to walk out. “What?” he asks them defensively. 

The oldest out of all of them smiles at him. “You two look so good together,” she says. “And so in love.” 

Yuzuru feels his face burning again, and he doesn’t say anything to that as he rushes out of the clinic, his chest pounding harder than it should have. 

 

 

 

 

Practice is a lot more bearable than last week, Yuzuru thinks. He goes over his routine without any mistakes, goes through Coach Brian’s training without any complaints. Coach Brian seems to be impressed with him whilst watching his new routines, even pats him on the head when they’re all ready to go home. 

“Something good must have happened this day,” Javier comments when they’re in the locker room, getting changed. 

Yuzuru hums pleasantly. “Hmm, I wonder~” 

“Ah.” Javier closes his locker and looks at Yuzuru knowingly. “I know why. How’s co-habiting with your boyfriend?” 

Yuzuru closes his locker door with his pointing finger still there, and he yelps in pain. “Michael’s not my boyfriend!” he says defensively, finger on mouth to hopefully ease the pain. 

“Uh-huh. Whatever happened in Sochi didn’t mean anything?” 

“That’s not it!” Yuzuru’s face is red again as he remembers eyes meeting in the welcoming party, the touch of hands as they strolled the quiet streets of Sochi at nighttime, that quick peck of lips on lips before they parted. “We like each other, but we’re not exactly together that way …” 

Javier doesn’t look convinced. “Sure, and I’m the King of Spain.” He tsks and shakes his head, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Ready to go, lover boy?” 

Michael is sitting in the lobby of the skating rink by the time he and Javier arrive. “Hey!” he calls, and Michael looks at him, eyes brightening. “Did you wait long?” he asks as soon as he nears the younger one. 

“Nope, I just arrived,” he says, shaking his head. He looks at Javier cautiously, as if unsure what to make of the older one being with Yuzuru. 

“Uh,” Yuzuru says, to break off the awkward silence, “Michael, you’ve met Javier? Javier, Michael.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Javier says, shaking Michael’s hand before the latter can even hold out his hand. “Yuzuru can’t stop talking about you, you know.” 

Yuzuru chokes on his spit, and Michael looks at a loss for words, blinking. He swears to the heavens that he’s going to ship Javier off to the Amazon where the piranhas can feed on him— 

“Well, I have a date with Cortney, so I’ll go ahead. You two enjoy each other, all right?” Javier waggles his eyebrows for emphasis before striding off. 

Yuzuru sticks his tongue out at Javier’s retreating back before turning to Michael, whose face is a tinge of pink; he thinks it’s adorable. “So how was therapy?” he asks, just to change the subject. 

“Kinda okay,” Michael replies, his face turning back to normal color. “The doctor’s pretty confident my knee will be okay in two weeks.” 

“Your knee … it’s not that bad, right?” 

“It’s not anything bad. It would have healed quickly, but I wanted to compete in Sochi, so …” 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I get it.” He sees the owner of the skating rink pointing to his watch, and he gets the instruction. “The club’s about to close.” He holds out his hand, maybe out on a whim than anything else. Michael stares at it for a couple of seconds, and Yuzuru feels the heat creeping to his face. Maybe whatever happened in Sochi was just that, a phase … 

But he feels Michael’s hand curling on his, and the younger one’s smile is fond. “I remember,” he says, softly, “when it was just the two of us by the lake, and you just held my hand like this.” 

Of course, Yuzuru remembers, too. It’s one of the many memories stored up in his mind, always coming back to him whenever he least expects it, always making him smile like an idiot in the midst of crowds. Michael’s hand is soft and warm, just like how he remembers it. 

He then hears the clearing of the throat, and he knows it’s time to go. “Let’s go home.” 

 

 

 

 

And the next thing Yuzuru knows is that Michael has been with him close to a week. They’ve developed a comfortable routine between them, and it’s strange but good. It’s Yuzuru who always wakes up early, and Michael would help make breakfast and lunch when he wakes up earlier than scheduled. Yuzuru would drop Michael off the clinic before heading to the skating club. Then, depending on who finishes early, they’d walk home, hand in hand. 

Sometimes Yuzuru would let a welcome diversion from the routine. Like that Wednesday night when Javier and Marguerite and the rest of the skating club dragged them along to have dinner in the diner near the skating club. Yuzuru’s dietitian was most probably going to kill him, but having pizza and soda again after such a long time was definitely one of the best things that happened for the month. 

And Thursday night, Michael showed up in the skating club with plastic bags in hand. “What’s that for?” Yuzuru asks curiously. 

Michael grins. “I’m making dinner,” he announces. 

And the next thing Yuzuru knows is that he’s sitting on the living room couch, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen every once in a while. Michael’s in the kitchen, and whatever he’s up to there, Yuzuru isn’t sure. He had insisted on helping, but Michael had refused, saying that it was his turn to make dinner. 

Michael finishes a little bit later and sets down the bowls on the coffee table. It’s pork and vegetables on a steaming, sour broth. “It’s _sinigang_ ,” Michael explains with a grin. “My favorite dish. Try it!” 

It tastes good, and Yuzuru isn’t shy in expressing it. Michael brightens up, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Thank god,” he says, leaning beside Yuzuru. “Mom only taught me how to make this once, so I wasn’t sure if I did it right, and I had to text her just to make sure—” 

“It’s great,” Yuzuru interrupts, setting down his already empty bowl to pat Michael on the head. Michael pauses, as frozen in place as he was when Yuzuru made him wear his scarf. “So … can I have some more?” 

Michael nods, looking too happy beyond words. 

 

 

 

 

Sleep eludes Yuzuru at around three in the morning, and after much tossing and turning, he gives up and tiptoes out of his room. It’s four in the afternoon in Tokyo, so he calls Kanako, who, fortunately, is free for conversation. She’s too cheerful for his liking, but then again Yuzuru’s used to this. Besides, it’s been a while since he last talked to her, both of them too busy with training and time zones being in the way. 

They talk about whatever comes to mind—Oda and Daisuke’s drunken rendition of _Heavy Rotation_ over last night’s karaoke, Team Japan’s invite to guest in _VS Arashi_ once the Worlds are over, her mother being less of a stage mom for once. And then they talk about Michael. Yuzuru talks about Michael’s lack of scarves, Michael’s cooking, how Michael looks peaceful when he sleeps … 

Yuzuru pauses when he notices Kanako tucking her chin on her hand, smiling like she knows a deep, dark secret. “What are you thinking about?” he asks cautiously. 

Kanako shakes her head. “Nothing really important,” she says. 

“Kana-chan,” he whines, an eyebrow raised. 

She laughs. “Yuzu~” she coos. “I haven’t seen you this … how should I put this? It’s nice that you’re passionate for someone else other than figure skating.” 

_Passionate …_ It’s a word that Coach Tracy loved to describe him in interviews. And Coach Tracy is right—the rink is a second home, and he breathes the thrill of giving all he can to convey the music in the most graceful way he can. He lives for dancing and jumping that he can do it all his life, if he can. 

And then there’s Michael, that boy who snuck into his thoughts so subtly in Osaka, and so completely in Sochi. Michael, whose smile is enough to make a day in Sochi less cold, whose cooking he can eat every day, whose hand is warm and soft and fits perfectly in his. 

Yeah, maybe it is passion. 

Kanako’s secretive smile is back, and Yuzuru realizes he has spaced out. “Until when is he staying there?” 

“Until next week,” Yuzuru says, and based on experience, that one week will go quickly. 

“What are you going to do?” 

Yuzuru has a vague idea of what Kanako’s implying, and he feels a sense of the same nervousness before he steps on the rink for a big competition. But like his passion in figure skating, he’s going to go for this, too. 

 

 

 

 

“Coach …” 

Said coach pauses from yelling instructions to Nam to look at him, a look enough to make Yuzuru think about backing up and changing his mind. “What’s up?” 

Yuzuru gulps, his hands starting to get sweaty all of a sudden. “Can I take the day off tomorrow?” he asks. 

Coach Brian looks at him like an elephant had appeared from behind him. That’s usually not good news. “A day off?” he repeats. 

“Y-Yeah!” He’s turning red again, and he wishes the ice below him would break and swallow him whole. “You know Michael’s staying with me, and I want to show him a—” 

“Sure.” 

“—round—Really?” Yuzuru almost slips at his coach’s speedy answer. 

“Yuzu.” Coach Brian puts an arm around his shoulder. “Ever since I started coaching you, it was always I who has been insisting that you take a break. So, yeah, sure, take a day off. Take two days off, if you have to. I don’t mind.” 

Yuzuru blinks, still in disbelief that this is too easy. He bows to Coach Brian lower than he should before resuming his practice, making sure to do his best because he has no excuse to slack off now that he’s a day short of practice. 

“Have fun on your date!” Coach Brian yells at him, a hint of teasing in his voice. “And be safe!” 

Yuzuru actually slips, and Javier and Nam’s laughs are not helping ease his embarrassment at all. 

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, the science center is not exactly the most romantic place to take someone out on a date. But Yuzuru does it anyway because fancy restaurants scare him and it might scare Michael, too. So he picks a nearer place that he had always wanted to go to, and the next thing he knows is that they’re boarding a bus to Don Mills Road. 

Javier sends him a text message with so many judgmental emoticons. “ _A science center? Seriously? Have you never been on a date?_ “ 

Not really, Yuzuru thinks. Strangely enough, his first date was with Kanako, who had liked him back then. They went to Disneyland, and despite taking a break from training all Yuzuru talked about was figure skating that Kanako had given up altogether. It was an anecdote that they still laugh about. 

But this time it was Yuzuru who did the asking, and this is actually more nerve wracking than a skating program. 

Michael had dozed off, his head on Yuzuru’s shoulder. He chuckles fondly and brings a hand up to stroke the younger one’s hair. Michael doesn’t stir, only snuggles closer. 

To his relief, Michael is having a good time in the science center, and so is he. The first thing they did was play random melodies in the play fountain, pretending they’re in an orchestra. Hand in hand they explored the different exhibitions one by one, tried out the games in the space arcade, and laughed until their stomachs hurt. Some girls shyly approached them and asked for a photo and an autograph, and Yuzuru laughs at Michael’s surprised face when the girls asked for him instead of Yuzuru. 

“It’s weird,” Michael tells him when the girls have left and they have entered the planetarium. “How do you deal with all of this?” 

“You’ll get used to it,” Yuzuru says. “Just don’t get kissed. That’s my job.” The last sentence wasn’t supposed to be said out loud, and he mentally kicks himself for it. 

But to his relief, Michael just laughs, nervously, looping his arm around Yuzuru’s, and suddenly the room has gone warmer. “Possessive, aren’t we?” he remarks. “What are you, my boyfriend?” 

Michael sounds hopeful, and that’s his chance. “I want to be,” he says, and he thanks the heavens that his voice isn’t shaking. “How about you?” 

Michael pulls away, and by that time, the lights in the planetarium have gone dim, the stars casting a delicate shadow on Michael’s face. His heart throbs painfully, and maybe this is what wonder feels like, the type of wonder someone feels when someone is in front of something magical. Then again, the way Michael snuck into his life is magic enough. 

“Yeah,” Michael says after a seemingly long pause. He chuckles and looks at anywhere but him. “I’d like us to be ... you know.” 

The planetarium has gone darker, but they find each other’s hands once more, refusing to let go. 

 

 

 

 

There’s nothing really earth-shattering that happened after that, now that Yuzuru thinks about it, no sweet, romantic pop music in the background. But Michael’s smile is brighter than the stars in the planetarium, and suddenly this scenario is better than any cheesy confession out of the dramas his mother and sister force him into watching. 

The realization plays in his head over and over, like a broken record. They’re together, in an official sense of the word. Yuzuru thinks it’s too good to be true, but then Michael makes the most of the darkness and leans in, and the tingle in his lips brings him back to sweet, sweet reality. 

He really doesn’t know how they got back to his apartment, or maybe Yuzuru’s just too caught up in the moment of Michael’s hand and Michael’s smile and everything about Michael and how Michael’s all his. The moment the door closes Yuzuru grabs him by the wrist and pulls him closer. Michael gasps, but they wrap their arms around each other, chin burying on Yuzuru’s shoulder. Yuzuru’s got his back against the wall, and he can’t bring himself to care, not with their heartbeats erratic against each other’s chest. 

“Why me?” Michael murmurs, his voice ticklish on his shoulder. “You could have anyone else in the world. Why me?” 

Yuzuru remembers meeting Michael for the first time in Osaka, two years ago. He was hanging out on the bench outside the hotel, underneath the cherry blossom tree, shivering in the cold. Yet, he didn’t want to go back inside yet. The press was hounding him, pressuring him to take home the gold like his life depended on it. It did, actually, in his point of view, but he needed a breather from everything. 

And then there was a shy voice, Michael’s, asking if he could sit beside him. They sat there quietly, exchanging a few words, Michael looking more enthusiastic than he was for just making it here. And it was in that moment, cherry blossoms falling on them, that something stirred inside Yuzuru, something that he couldn’t explain in words. 

The words still get stuck in his throat, and whatever words those are, it most likely won’t be enough to explain to Michael. All he knows is that his heart does better triple axels every time Michael smiles. How Michael’s hand feels soft and warm and perfect in his. How he can go to sleep at night with the image of Michael’s peaceful sleeping face in his mind. 

“There’s …” he says, pulling away to stroke Michael’s cheek with his thumb. “Actually, there’s no one else but you.” 

Yuzuru doesn’t sleep on the floor that night. The bed doesn’t have space for two people, but Michael clings to him, their arms around each other, and Yuzuru smiles to himself as he drifts off, dreams of holding hands under the stars. 

 

 

 

 

Morning comes a little too soon. Yuzuru wakes up to sunlight streaming through his window and the blast of Avril Lavigne music next door. He groans, trying to make a move to get up, but he realizes that arms are wrapped around him that he gives up altogether. 

Michael is snuggled against his chest, showing signs of wakefulness, but there’s this reluctance to even open his eyes. Yuzuru chuckles fondly to himself, stroking his hair, causing the younger one to open his eyes. There’s a fluttering in his chest, like a bunch of butterflies had suddenly entered his system, and the grin on his face comes too naturally. “Hey,” he greets, a little too breathlessly. “Good morning.” 

Michael wrinkles his nose. “Your breath stinks,” he says, and his grin is mirroring Yuzuru’s, most probably. 

“So does yours.” Yuzuru leans in and brings their mouths together in a slow kiss. It’s gross, morning breath and all, but Yuzuru can’t really bring himself to care. 

They stay like that, lying down and kissing lazily, until the music next door becomes heavy rock. “I’ll go make breakfast,” Yuzuru mutters, dragging himself out of bed. 

Michael is clingy when he’s sleepy, he finds out. Yuzuru almost burns the pancakes when Michael’s arms slip around his waist from behind, face buried on his shoulder. He thinks he can get used to this, though, if Michael stays with him just a bit longer. 

“Aww, look at you two, you’re so cute!” 

The voice is so familiar, but sleepiness still clouds Yuzuru’s brain that he doesn’t react until he turns his head and sees his mother, phone pointed at their direction. 

“MOM!” 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the morning is less hectic after Yuzuru’s mother had barged in on them. She joins in on their breakfast and asks Michael tons of questions and shares stories about Yuzuru that makes the older one want to bury himself alive somewhere. 

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, laughing nervously as he closes the door to his room, refusing to meet Michael’s eyes. “She can be so embarrassing sometimes.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael says, and there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “Your mom ... she’s nice.” 

“Yeah, I’ll give her that one.” Yuzuru’s gaze drifts to the wall clock. “Well, go get changed. We’re going out.” 

Michael blinks. “Where are we going?” 

 

 

 

 

Michael lets out this amazed “Woah!” as soon as they get to the top of CN Tower, hands pressed on the glass as he eagerly looks out at the vast view of Toronto. Yuzuru chuckles fondly and walks up beside the younger one. “Amazing, isn’t it?” he says. He’s been here before, Javier dragging him on his first week in Toronto, and the feeling of wonder hasn’t gone old yet. 

“It’s so cool! We’re so high up!” Michael says, and a glance from below causes him to back up, suddenly looking cautious and nervous. 

“Scared of heights?” Yuzuru asks, as he decides to sneak his hand on the small of Michael’s back, quite possessively, now that he thinks about it. This whole display of affection still takes some getting used to. 

“Not really,” Michael says with a shake of his head. “But every time I look down I have this feeling that I’m going to fall anytime.” He looks embarrassed as soon as he says it, as if he had just divulged his deepest, darkest secret. 

“You’re not going to fall,” Yuzuru tells him, his grip on Michael tightening for emphasis. “I won’t let you. And if you do fall, I’ll fall with you.” 

Michael laughs, and there’s a tinge of pink in his cheeks. “Getting cheesy, aren’t we?” Yuzuru’s heart leaps when the younger one leans to his touch. “Are you always like this?” 

“Nah, only when I’m with you,” Yuzuru admits, and he thinks he really likes Michael because this is not like him, and it’s so unbecoming of an esteemed Olympic gold medalist, but he can’t really bring himself to care. 

They grow quiet and stay like that for a long time, looking out at the view. Time flies too fast, he knows that too well, and soon, it will be Saturday night and Michael will be flying back to Los Angeles. They’ll be doing the whole long-distance relationship thing soon, but right now, he wants to make the most out of this. 

“Yuzuru,” Michael says softly that Yuzuru doesn’t hear him at first. 

“Hmm?” 

“I can be cheesy, too.” Michael’s smile is impish, and Yuzuru can’t resist pinching the younger one’s cheeks. 

“Oh, really?” Yuzuru says, tone challenging but curious. “Fire away.” 

Michael takes a deep breath before he begins. “We’re not human, and we’re not animals either.” 

“... okay …? What are we, then?” 

The younger one is already laughing before delivering the punch line. “We’re an item. Get it? An item!” 

It’s a pickup line that would get someone whacked in the head, Yuzuru’s sure about that. But it was Michael who told that joke, and maybe Yuzuru likes Michael a lot because he finds himself laughing along and feeling like he’d like to hear those cheesy lines for as long as he can. 

 

 

 

 

“He’s glowing.” 

“I’m guessing the date went well?” 

“What else? He’s grinning like an idiot. He always grins like that when he’s thinking about his boyfriend.” 

Yuzuru ignores Javier’s pointedly loud voice as he and Marguerite have a chat by the railings. He braces himself into doing his quad salchow, which he does cleanly. He grins to himself, elated, and he can hear Coach Brian’s equally elated shout over the sidelines. He’s confident now, confident to go to Saitama and prove that winning the gold medal in the Olympics wasn’t just a stroke of luck. 

“Well, aren’t you an inspired kid?” Marguerite says, pleased, giving him a round of applause as he skates back to the side, ready to call it a day. 

Yuzuru thinks grinning suddenly comes too natural to him these days, and he does it again. “I just had a good weekend, I guess,” he replies, wiping the sweat off his brow with a towel. He follows his two friends out of the rink and to the hallway. 

“I bet you got laid,” Javier says, the smirk on his face implying all innuendo in the world. 

“I did not!” And Yuzuru’s face heats up, as red as the sun on Japan’s flag. 

Marguerite stops, and Yuzuru almost bumps into her. “Look who’s here.” 

It’s Michael, sitting again on the skating club’s lobby, looking jumpier than usual, seemingly out of excitement. And there’s that grin again, and Javier is looking at him with that annoying smirk that he wants to punch out of the older one. But he doesn’t, because he’s nice like that. “Go ahead without me,” he says, and he rushes to the lobby before the two can even reply. 

“Hey,” Michael says, standing up. 

“Hey yourself,” Yuzuru says, and they share a quick kiss, ignoring the gagging noises Javier is making before he heads to the locker room. “Did something good happen?” 

“I have something to show you.” Michael opens his bag and digs through it thoroughly before taking out an envelope. 

Yuzuru can see a doctor’s signature as soon as the younger one opens the letter inside it, and he thinks he knows what it means. “Is that—” 

“My medical clearance,” Michael finishes, and his smile will always, always take Yuzuru’s breath away. “It means I’m fit to compete.” 

And the next thing Yuzuru knows is that he’s laughing in joy and wrapping his arms around Michael and kissing him again. There are people watching them, and he can hear Javier’s whistles in the background, but he really doesn’t care at the moment, not when that’s the best news he’s ever heard for the day. 

 

 

 

 

Michael spends the whole night on Skype with his mother and Coach Viktor. Michael tells them of the good news, of course, and that the rest of the week will just be about maintaining his condition. He hears something from Coach Viktor about competing in Slovenia before heading back to Manila, which Michael enthusiastically nods to. 

Jesenice is a small municipality, when they researched it after the Skype conversation. It reminds Yuzuru of the Alps, the ones he saw from that _Heidi_ anime his sister is fond of watching on old CDs. Yuzuru asks Michael for one too many souvenirs, and Michael rolls his eyes, complaining of having a demanding boyfriend. 

“The time zones between Toronto and Slovenia suck,” Michael groans as he checks in the Internet. “I mean, five hours?” 

“I’ll be in Japan by that time,” Yuzuru says, “so that makes you sixteen hours behind.” 

“Fantastic.” Michael flops on the bed. “How do we do this long-distance thing?” 

Yuzuru laughs and returns his laptop on the desk before switching off the lights and crawling next to Michael. It’s not really that laughable a matter, now that he thinks about it, but he doesn’t want to dwell on it seriously. Not just yet. “We’ll make it work,” he says, pulling Michael close to him. “As my mom said, distance means so little when someone means so much.” 

“Finally listening to your mom, huh?” Michael yawns, and there isn’t a follow-up comeback for that because the younger one starts snoring, already asleep. 

“Yeah …” Yuzuru kisses Michael’s forehead before drifting off to sleep himself. 

 

 

 

 

Two more days. 

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Yuzuru looks over his shoulder and smiles reassuringly at Michael’s worried expression. “Trust me, being an Olympic champion has its privileges,” he says. “Come on, walk faster, I’m gonna be late.” 

Coach Brian eyes Michael with a curious raised brow as soon as they both enter the rink, to which Michael shrinks from behind Yuzuru. After a couple of seconds of silence, though, the coach shrugs. “No public displays of affection,” he says before skating to Nam’s direction. 

“Told you so,” Yuzuru says, grinning triumphantly and giving Michael a thumbs-up. “Are you sure the doctor’s allowed you to get back on ice, though?” 

“Just no jumps at the moment.” 

Yuzuru takes a look at Michael carefully, making sure the younger one is telling the truth. He understands how Michael wants to get back on ice, but he’s not going to allow him if getting back to practice will hurt his chances on future competitions. Michael doesn’t look like he’s lying, though, so he shrugs. “Okay. No jumps.” 

It feels weird, how it feels so natural being on the same rink with Michael. They’ve only been together on ice during practice sessions, and back then, they practiced in silence. One thing that hasn’t changed is that Yuzuru’s gaze will always drift to Michael’s direction, his graceful figure, his thoughtful expression as he works his routine in his mind. 

He feels a light whack on the back of his head, and Coach Brian skates past him. “Easy on the gaze, lover boy,” he says with a smirk. 

Yuzuru glares at Coach Brian’s back, but it doesn’t last long, replaced by a smile that he can’t control. 

Michael gets along with the rest of the skating club, Marguerite instantly befriending him on the spot. He’s still a little cautious around Javier, but soon he starts to warm up. At this rate, Yuzuru thinks, he can end up being an honorary member of the skating club, even if it’s just a couple of days. 

“I like him,” Javier tells him when Michael has been whisked away by Nam to rave about this latest video game whose title he’s vaguely heard of. 

“Like him how?” Yuzuru asks, wiping the sweat off his brow, still a bit high from being able to land his quad. 

“I dunno, man, I can’t really put it in the right words,” Javier replies, scratching the back of his head. “But you two are great together, first few impressions and all.” 

Yuzuru smiles. “Thanks, Javi.” 

“Just”—Javier lowers his voice this time—”mind reminding him that I already have a girlfriend? Sometimes I think he’s giving me these looks that can send me falling to my death or something.” 

“Or”—Yuzuru smirks—”maybe I won’t because you’ve been a pain all my life and I’m such a good friend—” 

“Do not make me take it all back, Hanyu!” Javier yells, and Yuzuru laughs, hiding behind Michael for protection. 

 

 

 

 

One more day. 

Javier and Cortney drag them to dinner to this restaurant after practice, as their going-away party for Michael. After that, they head to the nearby flea market, further stuffing themselves with street food that they shouldn’t be eating weeks before a major competition. It starts getting more crowded as night falls, and Yuzuru has to grip Michael’s hand more tightly than ever so that he won’t lose the younger one. 

“Anything interesting you wanna buy?” Yuzuru asks as they explore booth after booth. Cortney has already dragged Javier to a booth with tons of shoes on it, and Yuzuru can only wish Javier luck for the waiting he has to do. He checks his wallet, just to be sure—he’s not much on spending unless it’s necessary, so he still has a lot of money. And this, right now, is necessary. 

Michael looks over the trinkets, his forehead crinkling. “I’m not really sure …” So far, he already has his hands full of souvenirs that he’s going to take home—to his mother, his relatives, his coaches, that boy who he teaches how to skate in the Los Angeles skating rink. “What do you think, Yuzu?” 

To be honest, Yuzuru has never been good with these things, even with his friends. Kanako had rolled her eyes one too many times at him when he’d come home and give her a shirt or a beanie or basically anything “that doesn’t represent the country’s culture.” He doesn’t want to buy Michael a shirt or a beanie, for very obvious reasons. He wants to make this souvenir count. 

“How about that one?” he says, pointing to the shelf behind the girl in the booth. 

Michael looks to where he’s pointing, and blinks. “What are those?” 

Yuzuru grins; it’s perfect. “Collage postcards,” he says, signaling for the girl to get one set for them. Once it’s all paid for, he hands them to Michael. “I want you to write to me with these.” 

“Even if we’ll just send each other weird messages over LINE and Skype?” 

“But isn’t sending each other postcards romantic?” Yuzuru feels his heart sinking. “You don’t like it …?” 

He must have been too obvious, before Michael starts stammering, as if trying to do damage control. “N-No! That’s not it!” he says, waving his hands, sending a shopping bag to the ground. “I haven’t done this, you know … the whole couple thing.” 

“Me either,” Yuzuru says as he bends down to pick up the bag, fingers brushing with Michael’s as he hands it back to the younger one. “But I want to try being a couple. I want to try it with you.” 

Michael looks down, his grin almost reaching his ears. “I want to try it with you, too.” 

Yuzuru wants to kiss him right then and there, but there are people all around them, and the girl is clearing her throat, a sign that they shouldn’t be here if they’re not buying anything else. Michael loops his free arm around his, and they make their way through the crowd to find Javier and Cortney. 

 

 

 

 

Michael is a very disorganized packer, he has come to discover. Yuzuru watches as he moves from one corner of the room to the next, picking up his belongings and throwing them on top of his trunk. He laughs when Michael gives him this desperate look, a sock on one hand and a shirt on the other, a sign that he should help. It doesn’t take long until Michael’s all packed and ready to leave the next morning. 

It’s going to be back to normal for him, and a part of him doesn’t want to. Michael has already taken up a space in his life that feels strange when it’s gone. It’s not going to be the same anymore—there’ll be freer space in his bed, in his closet, no extra toothbrush or towels in the bathroom. No more handholding on the way home, no stolen kisses in the darkness. 

It will have to wait until they see each other again in Chicago, in October. Seven months seems like a century, now that he thinks about it. And he’s not sure what’s going to happen next, when Michael has used up all the collage postcards. But he likes to believe that the world is small and love, yes he thinks it’s already love, can beat their odds. 

“What are you thinking about?” Michael’s voice brings him back to reality, plopping next to him on the edge of the bed. 

“I’ll miss all of these,” Yuzuru says, meeting the younger one’s eyes. “I have to admit, though, I’m glad I won’t be cooking for two. Cooking for myself is bad enough.” 

“It’s okay, you tend to burn the bacon anyway,” Michael says, sticking his tongue out. “And you talk in your sleep, it’s creepy.” 

“I do not!” Yuzuru laughs, indignantly hitting Michael with his pillow. “Says someone who snores really loud!” 

“Shut up!” Michael hits him back, laughing as well. 

The impromptu pillow fight continues until Yuzuru’s mother peeks in on them, telling them it’s time to go to bed. (Yuzuru doesn’t miss that mischievous sparkle in his mother’s eyes before she closes the door.) Yuzuru makes his way to stand up and switch off the lights, though reluctantly. 

A pair of arms wrap around him, and he feels time stopping. He wishes it can, just to be able to stay with Michael like this for a bit longer. He sighs, leaning to the touch and taking Michael’s hand in his. “Getting clingy, aren’t we?” he comments, and he thinks his voice just cracked. 

“I’ll miss you,” Michael whispers, face buried on his shoulder. “I’ll miss this.” 

“Me, too.” Yuzuru spins around so that he’s embracing Michael now. “Hey, I wanna try something. Close your eyes.” 

“If you’re thinking of doing something di—” 

“It’s not,” Yuzuru laughs, lightly slapping the younger one’s arm. “Just do it. Please?” 

Michael looks at him carefully, but he closes his eyes anyway. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” Yuzuru says, voice barely above a whisper. “A kiss for every day we’re not together.” Behind the back of his mind he wants to slap himself for being so cheesy, but the hours are numbered, and he wants to remember Michael like this, warm and completely his. 

He feels Michael’s heartbeat quicken against his chest. “Okay,” he says. 

_One_ , a gentle kiss on the forehead. _Two and three_ , a kiss each on the eyelids. _Four_ , on the mole on the bridge of Michael’s nose. _Five_ , a kiss on the tip of his nose. _Six and seven_ , a kiss on each cheek. 

He feels Michael’s grip on him tightening, the younger man shaking. “Are you done yet?” he asks, eyes still closed, sounding a bit whiny at the sudden pause. 

“Not even close,” Yuzuru replies, his lips hovering too close to Michael’s. _Eight_ , a soft peck on the lips. _Nine, ten, eleven, twelve_ , butterfly kisses on Michael’s neck. Michael is gasping softly, and it feels a little uncomfortable, so they move to the bed, and _thirteen, fourteen, fifteen_ , butterfly kisses on the other side. _Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three_ , on the neck all over again. 

“Yuzu …” Michael breathes out, and Yuzuru has forgotten to yelp in pain at how tightly the younger one is holding on to him right now, like Yuzuru’s an anchor that keeps him from going down too deep. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips hovering on Michael’s once more. _Twenty-four_ , another light peck on the lips. “I love you,” he repeats, like a mantra. _Twenty-five_ , he sucks on Michael’s bottom lip and smiles to himself when the younger one lets him. “I love you,” he says again, on the upper lip this time. 

He loses count after _twenty-six_ , when Michael kisses back and whispers, “I love you, too” over and over again. 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, I almost forgot.” 

“Hmm?” Yuzuru watches as Michael fishes out something from his bag, his scarf. “Oh yeah.” He had almost forgotten he gave that to Michael when he arrived in Toronto. Strangely enough, they’re back where they started—in the airport—only this time, Michael’s going back to Los Angeles, to recuperate, and to train for the last tournament for the season. 

“It’s not cold in LA anymore,” Michael explains, smiling sheepishly. “Besides, I bought one for myself.” He brings out another scarf, a blue one compared to his red scarf. 

“Hmm …” Yuzuru takes a look at the two scarves and gets an idea. “You know what? Keep the scarf. Red looks better on you.” 

“What am I gonna do with this scarf, then?” 

Yuzuru grins, hand reaching out to take the blue one. “Let’s switch!” He pauses when Michael makes a grab at the blue scarf, and when he looks, the younger one’s eyes are sparkling in amusement, as if he just thought of something. “What?” 

“Allow me.” 

Yuzuru doesn’t really know what to expect, especially not Michael taking a step forward and wrapping the scarf around his neck. This is really all too familiar, and he can’t find himself to move, nor wipe the stupid grin forming on his face as Michael takes particular care in adjusting the scarf before patting his cheek. 

“There.” Michael’s grin is mirroring his. “All set to step outside.” 

“I love you,” Yuzuru says, and his cheeks hurt too much already. His hand hovers over the scarf, warm to the touch, just like Michael when he takes the younger one in his arms. 

His chest flutters when Michael returns the embrace and says, “I love you too.” 

“Call me as soon as you’re home,” Yuzuru says, just to buy a bit more time. 

Michael nods, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Make sure you’re awake by the time I go online,” he replies. 

“I will.” 

The younger one puts up a hand and makes a small wave. “Bye.” 

Yuzuru returns the gesture. “Bye.” 

The PA system has already reminded the passengers boarding the flight to Los Angeles to board already, and while he doesn’t want to let go just yet, he thinks it’s all going to be okay. Michael’s going to use those collage postcards, and he’s looking forward to checking his mailbox every single day, to scrolling through a long list of LINE notifications, to counting down until the Skate America in Chicago. 

Everything will be okay, Yuzuru repeats to himself as he watches Michael walk away. Because he loves Michael, and Michael loves him, and distance means so little for someone who means so much.

**Author's Note:**

> * cross-posted to [taisetsukotoba @ LJ](http://taisetsukotoba.livejournal.com/1503.html) and mizurumonday @ Tumblr  
> * this was just supposed to be idk 2-3k words idk what happened. i had meant to post this last week, too, but 3.31 is a special day. :-)  
> * this was inspired by a [scene](https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/t1.0-9/1524623_304473859677958_2026671491_n.jpg) in episode 1 of the japanese drama, _boku no ita jikan_. it was just supposed to be just about the scarves, but idk what happened. also, rihwa’s song provides a good inspiration. ^^  
>  * again, this is dedicated to #teamyelobear, especially to clemencio, for being my all-reliable beta, procopio, for being my #1 fan, and tablo, for the occasional ninja-ing in google docs and the virtual _sinigang_.  
>  * also plugging tropical frost, the first fan site for michael christian martinez! you may check the official web site (tropical-frost.com), follow TropicalFrost @ twitter, and tropicalfrost @ instagram!


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